The Unknown Life of Maria Stark, Part One: Girl Unnoticed
by brightneeBee
Summary: How Maria Collins Carbonell became Agent Marie Reinstein, fought along side Captain America, befriended Sergeant Bucky Barnes and the Howling Commandos, and fought her feelings for Howard Stark, millionaire, genius, play-boy, philanthropist... Rated M for a reason. Bucky/OFC/Howard triangle.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in the Marvel-verse. I am merely doing this as a hobby and for my own personal pleasure and entertainment. Please don't sue me.**

**Author's Note: This series is going to span several different fandoms, as well as the Marvel-verse, so bear with me. I've been writing portions of each part of the series for months up to the ending. Part one has been edited for a more believable storyline, and to un-MarySue the main character, Maria Stark (nee Collins Carbonell). There is a method to this madness, so give it a chance before you write it off.**

**Also, I've used some Grey's Anatomy quotes in dialogue, as several inspired certain chapters. So, keep your eyes peeled and you might pick them out. ;)**

**Please, read and comment.**

* * *

February 2013, New York

The town car slowed to a stop in the back alley of Stark Tower. Two agents were already waiting for her as the driver rushed around the car and opened the door. Stepping out, she thanked him and gave him instructions to take an early day, knowing what she had come to do would take all afternoon. Without a glance back, she began walking towards the agents standing at attention, two out of only three who knew of her existence.

Agent Barton opened the door for her, waiting for her and then Agent Romanov before following behind them. He locked the door and fell in step with Agent Romanov as they followed their superior through the maze of corridors towards the back elevators of Stark Tower. Her heels clicked quick and sharp against the floors, her pace a breath away from a jog as she made haste.

Anyone could tell by a mere passing glance that this woman was in the midst of a bad mood. Jerking her Italian leather gloves in swift movements from her hands, she pursed her lips and steeled herself for the utter mess awaiting her in the top levels. The clash with Fury had been a long time coming. It was no surprise that Maria Stark was forced to leave her position behind the scenes to ride in and police the Avengers, and their constant bickering.

"Does the Director know of my arrival?" asked Maria, in a firm and clipped tone; her Chicago accent faint and unrecognizable after so much time had passed.

Agent Romanov answered, "No, ma'am, he's in the dark."

"Good," said Maria. "And do not call me 'ma'am,' it makes me feel old, Natasha. And we're basically the same age."

"Yes, of course."

"Are the Avengers still bickering like play-yard children over a new toy?"

"Yes," replied Agent Barton, pressing the button for the elevator as they came to a stop in front of it. "Stark, Rogers and Thor, mostly. Banner has been keeping his head down; Agent Goldstein and Ms. Lewis have their earphones in to ignore them."

"Labs, then?" surmised Maria, keeping her oversized sunglasses on.

"No, conference room on Level Twelve."

"Wonderful," Maria muttered, folding her gloves and stuffing them into to her coat pocket.

As the elevator doors opened, she entered and stepped over to the command panel on the right, while Agents Barton and Romanov followed. They stood at attention towards the back as Maria pressed the button for Level 12. Quiet, and well aware of the gravity of the situation, Barton and Romanov shared a knowing look.

Maria Stark, according to the world, had been dead for the last twenty years. Not even her son knew she had survived the car crash that supposedly killed both of his parents. Only a select few in SHIELD and her old friend Peggy knew that she had survived. And no one but Peggy knew how Maria had survived. SHIELD just assumed Maria had been taking the annual Infinity Formula like the agents that were still working field assignments. The agents that had been with SHIELD since the 1960s. No one questioned it.

No one knew that Maria was alive, or had known, except for Director Fury and Agents Barton, Coulson, and Romanov, and the Council. Of course, Coulson was dead, and no one else wished to bring her fury down on them for letting any information about her slip. She had her hand in several secret organizations, was the actual Head of SHIELD (higher than the Council), and had been facilitating the truces between both sides of the mutant conflict, as well as the posthuman situation with the Company. No one knew how she managed to do all of that, and keep track of every single going-on in SHIELD. Or how she made time for everything else.

Those were secrets Maria would never tell.

As the elevator doors closed, Maria shrugged effortlessly out of her cream hued coat and handed it to Agent Romanov. She took her sunglasses off and hooked them onto the v-opening of her white blouse, moving a strand of her usually curly hair from her forehead. Her warm brown hair, straightened for the day, hung in silky layers down to her waist; silky, thanks to a lot of hair products to tame her usually frizzy mane. Her makeup was minimal, leaving her as fresh faced as always; shimmery, skin-tone hued eyeshadow and mascara, and a soft hint of cherry-tint had been applied to her plump lips. Fresh faced. She didn't look a day over twenty-five, frozen in time forever it seemed.

"Are you certain this is the best course of action, Maria?" asked Agent Romanov.

Maria laughed, "Are you attempting to talk me out of 'chewing out' Fury, Natasha?"

"No, but this will affect Tony and the way the Avengers perceive Director Fury as a figure of authority," explained Romanov. "They may not respect the Director after you... chew him out."

"I will make sure he is given the respect he is due," said Maria as the elevator doors opened at Level 12. She stepped out and marched with grace down the hallway.

"POINTE BREAK DOESN'T NEED TO BE IN THE LABS!"

"STAND DOWN, STARK!"

"IT'S MY BUILDING, I GET A SAY! YOU ARE NOT MY BOSS! YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER! IF I SAY NO NORSE GODS ON STEROIDS ARE ALLOWED IN MY LABS, THEN NO STEROID GODS IN MY LABS! I DON'T TAKE ORDERS FROM ANY OF YOU! NOT IN MY OWN BUILDING!"

"MR. STARK, CALM YOURSELF!"

"Tony, please sit down!"

Maria stopped suddenly and looked back to her agents, "I take it they are in that conference room? Far, far away from the labs at the end of the hall, smart move, Agent Barton."

"PEPPER, JUST STAY OUT OF THIS!"

"Who all is in there?" asked Maria, looking back to the closed door at the end of the hallway.

"Director Fury, Tony, Captain Rogers, Dr. Banner, Darcy Lewis, Lux Goldstein and Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, Dr. Foster, and Thor," answered Agent Romanov. "Everyone else has been moved to the lower levels."

Maria was silent for a moment, tapping her finger against her lips before speaking, "Good call, Agents," she sighed, running her fingers through her straightened locks and tucking the large, ornate oval locket hanging between her breasts under her blouse with a sigh, "God, how did I become the school teacher on the playground? Don't answer that."

When Barton and Romanov remained silent, Maria sighed again, "The Avengers Initiative seemed like such a good idea at the time. And to think, I was going to extend an offer to Charles for his people to join."

"It's not Director Fury's fault, exactly," Agent Barton replied quietly. "There are quite a few... strong personalities in the Avengers that makes wrangling them incredibly difficult. Darcy Lewis has been the only person who has managed to calm everyone down when the situation gets this bad."

Maria looked incredulously at them both at this, "Then why was I called away from my meeting?!"

Agent Barton coughed and Romanov bit back a laugh before answering, "She and Goldstein found the entire argument entertaining when everyone was moved to the conference room. Then they found it hilarious, until Director Fury made a comment to Lewis, and she refused to help diffuse. It's her form of punishment."

Maria snorted before more of the screaming match echoed out into the hall. Her lips pressed together in a thin line and she shook her head. Steeling herself for the plethora of reactions residing on the other side of that conference room door. With practiced grace, she threw her shoulders back, put on her most authoritative expression and ordered Agents Barton and Romanov to go ahead of her and keep the doors open.

Taking a deep breath, Maria waited and listened as Barton and Romanov opened the doors and entered.

"Oh no," she heard Fury groan over the continued shouts coming from the room.

With a smirk, Maria marched the rest of the way and into the chaos with a speech already in mind, "After careful consideration, and many a sleepless night, here is what I have decided: There is no such thing as a grown-up," doing something she normally avoided, she placed a bit of external influence into her next statement, "EVERYONE TAKE A SEAT!"

She yelled over the arguing individuals and slammed the doors behind her to silence those who hadn't noticed her presence yet, "We move on, we move out, we move away from our families and form our own, but the basic insecurities and fears and old wounds just grow with us. And-"

"Marie-" Fury started, but Maria merely increased her volume and spoke over him.

"And just when we think that life and circumstance have forced us to truly, once and for all, become an adult..."

She looked every single person in the room in the eye with a stern expression before continuing, "We get bigger and taller and older, but, for the most part -"

"Marie -"

She held up a finger at Fury, "I am not done speaking Director. Do not interrupt me again, or I will put you in a timeout."

"Yes, Chief," he answered dejectedly.

"For the most part, we are all still a bunch of children running around a playground," she said firmly. "I have heard that it is possible to grow up. Of course, I have yet to meet anyone who has actually done it - yes, including you, Director!"

Taking a breath and motioning for Barton and Romanov to take a seat, Maria strolled over to Director Fury. She gave him a wilting stare as she spoke in a controlled tone, "I said for everyone to take a seat, Director. That included you, or do I need to repeat myself one more time?"

He glared but did as she said, and Maria whipped around when two distinct giggles disturbed the silence from the other end of the conference table. She folded her arms under her bust and glared at Darcy and Lux until they noticed. It only took a few seconds before the earphones were pulled from their ears and both women looked thoroughly ashamed.

Clearing her throat, Maria clasped her hands in front of her for a brief moment before snapping her fingers and bumping her fists against each other, "Now, I can understand the temptation to act like toddlers and fight over every little thing, just to be spiteful. Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves. We throw tantrums when things do not go our way. We whisper secrets with our friends in the dark, and we look for comfort where we can find it. We hope," she paused to stop pacing and looked around the room again, "We hope against all logic and experience, like children. We never give up hope. And would anyone like to take a guess at what my hope was? Hmm?"

Several people shook their heads while the rest remained quiet. She took that as an invitation to pick someone to provide an answer, "Director Fury, would you like to take a guess?"

She placed her hands in the pockets of her high-waisted pants and waited for an answer. When Fury folded his arms and refused to look at her, she chose someone else, "Dr. Foster, can you reckon an idea?"

Jane Foster shook her head with wide, scared eyes.

"Dr. Banner, what do you think?" Maria turned her focus to the quiet scientist trying to make himself invisible. When he didn't answer, she called on Barton and Romanov.

"To not be forced to come out from the shadows to do the Director's job for him?" offered Barton, avoiding Fury's murderous glare.

"To not have to come in and play mother to everyone in this room?" added Romanov.

Maria's sarcasm was enthusiastic as she applauded the two agents, "Yes, well done! Bravo!" She clapped her hands together and strolled from across the room slowly, "When the Avengers Initiative was given the green light, I gave Director Fury one," she turned to look down at Fury, "small instruction... Do you remember the exact words, Nicholas?"

He replied with a grunt, and she leaned down to meet his eye level, "I told you to control the kiddies, because if I had to come in to police your pet-project, it would not be pleasant. Don't be so petulant, Nicholas!"

"Not being petulant," he grumbled under his breath when she moved away from him, "Grown ass man... treat me like a damn child-"

"I can hear you, Director," she said blandly.

Tony snickered, drawing her attention to him. Resting her hands on the back of his chair and leaning down to breathe into his ear, "I'm still your mother, and I wouldn't hesitate to bend you over my knee and spank you in front of your teammates, Anthony."

He gulped, turning pale quickly.

Maria smirked behind his back and stood at the head of the conference table, "The fact that I am still alive has to remain a secret. There are reasons why I've stayed in the background. Reasons that I can't possibly begin to explain, but I will try to answer any questions you all may have."

As she sat, several people exploded with questions. Tony had jumped up from his seat to stare and stammer, while Fury yelled his own indignation, and Agents Barton and Romanov just looked at her in surprise. Banner looked confused, Darcy and Lux were conversing in hushed tones, and even Dr. Foster and Thor were whispering to each other and looking around confusedly. Steve Rogers just stared at his clasped hands resting on the table.

Pepper Potts remained quiet and attentive.

"Quiet!" shouted Maria, motioning for people to take their seats. "I believe you deserve to ask your questions first, Tony, so ask away."

The corners of her lips quirked upwards and her expression melted into a warm, motherly smile as Tony asked, "How is this," he motioned emphatically with both hands in her direction, "even possible?! Is Dad still dead, or is that a lie, too? Oh, oh! Are you actually an alien pretending to my mother? Oh, what about -"

"I am most definitely your mother, Tony," answered Maria, giving him a stern look. "Regarding how I am still alive...I," she paused to control the touch of sadness welling up inside, "It's a long story. A very, very, very long story."

"Then tell it," countered Tony obstinately. "We have all damn day, Mom. So tell it!"

"Watch your tone, Stark," warned Captain Rogers from Maria's right. "Don't talk to your mother like that."

"I'm a grown man, Capsicle, and I believe I have the right to be a little angry about this," challenged Tony while everyone watched the exchange in silent intrigue. "And last time I checked, you have no authority over - oh, god. Oh, God," exclaimed Tony, looking at Maria in shock, "He knew?! HE KNEW AND I DIDN'T?!"

"Son, you need to apologize -" started Rogers until Maria cut him off.

"He's my son, Steve," Maria interjected quietly, "And he has every right to be pissed. I can handle it, I deserve it," she turned her focus back to her son, "Yes... Captain Rogers was aware that I was - am - still alive. I had wanted to be there when he woke up, but I was never told he had been found until after he had already awakened and been released," she glared at Fury for a moment for emphasis, "Steve and I are very old friends...And the only people who knew I survived the accident are Fury, Barton, and Romanov...And Peggy-"

"Can someone tell me why my mother is still alive?" exclaimed Tony.

Maria sighed, "I'm not quite sure where to start, or where an explanation truly begins."

"Start from the beginning," offered Rogers. "Bucky said you told him once...that the day you met us was the most important day of your life."

"I did, didn't I?" asked Maria, smiling sad and wistful at no one in particular. "You never know the biggest day of your life is going to be the biggest. The days you think are going to be the most important? They are never as big as you make them out to be in your mind. The regular days, the ones that start out normal; those are the days that end up being the ones that change your life forever..."

Maria paused, looking around at the faces sitting at the conference table. Each pair of eyes as attentive and intrigued as the next, all waiting for her to divulge and tell her story. They were more interested in the explanation behind her existence, and it was understandable. Everyone in the room was either a scientist of some sort or a being of intense curiosity; all highly intelligent people with the need to know every little detail.

She looked down at her hands grimly, "I guess, before I start with how I know Captain America..." She looked over at Captain Rogers, meeting his hard gaze with a sad and soft expression of her own before turning her attention back to everyone else, "I should start at the very beginning. No one has ever known the truth. I...I've spent my life weaving all these lies to protect myself and other people, that I almost forget sometimes who I really am."

"And who are you?" asked Tony.

"The name on my original birth certificate is Maria Collins Carbonell, born February 14, 1922. Born in Chicago. My father worked for the Italians," answered Maria with a sad look about her features. "When I was twelve, I worked jobs with some guys in the mob. I was really good at slipping in, cracking safes. And I was small enough to fit between bars, squeeze through openings. When my family was hard up for cash, I'd take a few collection jobs. Everyone knew if I came knocking on your door, you better have the money ready. Mother was a drunk, father beat me to a pulp daily. I'd had enough, so I planned on splitting.

"I didn't know where I was going until Abraham Erskine knocked on my door," said Maria softly, fondly. "My father made me answer the door, still bloody and bruised. Abraham said he'd been looking for me for a long time, and that he needed my help. Took a look at my face and told me to pack a bag. So, I did. He took me to New York, and I was...adopted. He and his wife called me Marie. Took me on excursions through Brooklyn and Queens, pushed me to be more than a thief. I didn't know people could be so nice.

"There's an old proverb that says, You can't choose your family," Maria smiled a bit, remembering the time Erskine had explained life to her. "You take what the Fates hand you. And like them or not, love them or not, understand them...or not...you cope." Shrugging, she continued, "Then there's the school of thought that says the family you're born into is simply a starting point. They feed you, clothe you, take care of you until you're ready to go out into the world...and find your tribe. Abraham and Rose were my real parents, I just didn't know. They will always be my parents. And everyone I've ever let in over the last...sixty something years...they will always be my tribe."

"Yeah, and what about me?" asked Tony, offended to not be mentioned. "What about Dad? Where do we fall in your little philosophical epiphanies?"

"You're my son," said Maria, reaching over to grasp Tony's hand. "I always put you first, and that'll never change. I made you from scratch."

"And Dad?"

Maria sighed, "I haven't forgiven him for what he put you through. No childhood should be miserable."

"Can I ask how Tony Stark's mother looks younger than her son?" interjected Dr. Foster from down the conference table. "And how could anyone at this table know Captain America from when he was first Captain America?"

"Genetic codes," Maria answered simply, giving her son's hand a squeeze before letting it go. "I was born this way, I heal instantaneously. Captain America's body regenerates four times faster than that of a normal human being. I'm the reason why. I could stab myself in the heart right now, and it would heal in less than a minute. I stopped aging when I was twenty-five. It's my genetics...It's my burden..."

Maria trailed off as she glanced over at a sour looking Steve. She remembered the day she first met him, down to the way he'd tied his shoes. She never noticed Bucky that day, just the fifteen year old that looked too small and too young for his actual age. She'd been intrigued by his kindness, when someone pushed her out of the way and she fell, skinning her knee. Bucky and Steve had helped her up, but she'd been so focused on Steve. How he and Bucky made sure she was okay before brushing past to make the boy that pushed her apologize. And then Erskine had whisked her away to get something to eat, and to make sure no one noticed that the bloody knee she had a few minutes before had healed without a scar. It was special treat for her, after the Doctor had taken her in when he found her adoptive father beating her senseless. She had waved over her shoulder at the boys as Erskine led her away.

"Do you remember the day I met you and Bucky?" Maria asked, propping her chin in a palm. Steve was still angry at her, and it was understandable. To him, her words were still fresh, and to her it had been over sixty years since she had blamed him for Bucky's death. Enough time had passed for her to realize how wrong she'd been, but Steve had only recently been found, thawed and awakened from an almost seventy year slumber. "Come on, Steve. I know you remember. We were fifteen, Coney Island..."

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he nodded, "Some kid knocked you down and you scraped your knee."

"You made sure I was okay before you and Bucky caught up to the boy to make him apologize to me," added Maria with a small giggle. "I felt guilty that I knew who you were, and you both didn't know my name until after Erskine died."

"I still can't believe I never recognized Erskine as the man leading you away that day," Steve shook his head, a little less visibly angry than a few moments before. "You waved at us from over your shoulder. No one in Brooklyn knew who you were."

"I didn't have friends," shrugged Maria, looking around at everyone else in the room. "Abraham enrolled me in school in Queens, but I never made an effort to befriend someone. People thought I was mute because I didn't speak outside of the apartment. And I stayed home a lot, to stay out of trouble. Studied medicine and anatomy, helped Abraham with his research. Mama Rose taught me French and German, how to play the piano...Singing lessons when she caught me humming while I was hanging up laundry. No time for friends, especially when I came from a home that didn't trust anyone."

"I'm still confused on how you turned up as an Agent for the SSR and British Intelligence," said Steve, giving her a pointed look. "There were no files on you. Not even a slip of paper with your name on it. I forgot to ask when we took Noa-"

"Actually, I was First Special Service Force," said Maria hurriedly and loud before Steve finished that statement, "and a consultant to the British Armed Forces. No one had papers on me, really."

"Colonel Phillips' idea," finished Steve, nodding once as he realized she didn't want Noah's name thrown out for her to explain. He rerouted the subject instead, "Still doesn't explain how you were a top operative during the war."

"I had a very special set of skills," replied Maria with an innocent smile. "There wasn't a name that I knew of for people who could do what I was capable of. Today, we're known as posthumans, but that's among the posthumans. People with abilities that have a different genetic make-up from the mutants. Almost all posthumans manifest one singular ability, but besides myself, I've met one other who could copy and collect these gifts. Dr. Erskine caught me trying to learn how to control all the abilities I had unknowingly collected. Found me his first trip to Chicago."

"There is no such thing as people with abilities..." Tony trailed off as he looked around the room. "Okay, I'll be quiet."

"It's a part of human evolution," explained Maria, leaning back in her chair. "Thankfully, you weren't born with my very specific genetic code. You inherited my good looks and intelligence, and your father's arrogance."

"Take that last part back," exclaimed Tony, feigning shock and earning exasperated looks from everyone in the room. Throwing up his hands, Tony stood from his chair and paced for a bit, "Fine, don't mind me. Just tell the story."

"Oh, but the story hasn't even begun," laughed Maria, swivelling side to side in the chair as she pulled a hair-tie off her wrist and put her long locks up in a sloppy ponytail. "Abraham said he'd seen me blowing up bricks and freezing the shards in mid-air the day he was trying to find where I lived. He had some man visit him, tell him there was a missing element to the formula and that I was the key."

"So, when do we get to how you ended up in World War II?" poised Tony, still pacing as he listened to his mother. Maria had never wanted him to know about her childhood, and that was where the divide between her and Howard had started. She had been exposed to parents who drank and beat her daily, and she had never wanted that for her son. She had shielded him as best she could, but as much of a force to be reckoned with as Maria was, Howard was an equal match. It was something she had fought with Howard over, but Tony had still been exposed to that kind of daily drinking and verbal assaults.

"Through SSR when the war started," answered Maria, pushing her other thoughts away. "I was Erskine's original assistant, before Colonel Phillips pulled in Howard Stark. A soldier had tried to grope me, and I broke a few ribs and the guy's nose. Phillips had turned a corner and watched it happen. He said I had potential, and he had already taken a chance on Peggy Carter, so...He redacted my name from Erskine's SSR reports and shipped me to England for more extensive and intensive training for a project in the works. I was enlisted as an Agent for the First Special Service Force under Marie Reinstein, but I was basically a ghost because I was just barely eighteen."

"And then?" asked Darcy Lewis, on the edge of her seat.

Maria's gaze softened when she looked at the young woman, eyes flitting over the girl's features before she answered, "Peggy Carter trained me, and then Dum Dum Dugan. Gabe Jones taught me French and German, though Mama Rose had already started that process. I worked with someone else on my Italian. And then I was in one-on-one training with...this woman," Maria lied, forcing herself not to look at Natasha, "No one knew her name, or cared to tell me. She was just there, trained me for months, and then she was gone. Everything to do with espionage, she drilled it into me until I was at her level.

"Then I was on assignments as a consultant for the British Armed Forces," shrugged Maria, combing her brain to make sure she hadn't left anything out so far. "I did many a questionable thing, but I never stooped to sleeping with a man for information. I played up my innocence as a flower shop girl in Paris, let the German Officers take me out for a moving picture, and a pastry after. If I played my cards right, they told me everything I wanted to know before the first kiss...

"I was also a contact person for a German spy to pass along information to the British higher ups," added Maria. "She would come in with her usual entourage, pick out a bouquet, and I would take down the message and deliver it to different points around Paris. And then I was called out of field work for the SSR. Erskine was close to the perfected formula, and he wanted me there to evaluate the recruits. He was looking for someone specific and he wanted my opinion...

"So, I tied up loose ends and closed the flower shop until I returned," shrugged Maria, glancing at Steve. "That's when the story begins..."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER ONE

June 1943, Flushing Meadows, NY

Maria could still smell the lavender and honeysuckle from the shop. Having not showered yet after three days of travelling, it was understandable the aroma would still linger. Of course, she thought the smell would fade, but looking down at the skirt of her pale blue dress, she saw a possible reason as to why she could still smell the lavender strongly. Petals were sticking to the fabric, and she had a sprig of honeysuckle poking out from under the black ribbon cinched around her waist. A small lavender blossom had tangled in the bow in the front, as well. Touching her dark brown hair, knotted and pinned about the base of her skull, she found little stems of baby's breath and alyssum tangled in her unmanageable locks. And she already knew about the wild poppy blossom trapped in her plain, black heel. She could feel it squishing under the ball of her foot with every step.

There just hadn't been enough time to do more than set up a free flower stall outside, lock the doors and put a note in the window. "On vacation," was what the note said, though she doubted the Nazis would buy the excuse. She got the hell out of dodge, not because she was in trouble, but due to the fact that she was given orders to come home. Abraham had refused to move further in Project Rebirth until she was home with him and Rose. The Erskines, or the Reinsteins as everyone in Queens knew them. Her family. The only parents she ever acknowledged. It had been over two years since she had seen them, the people who rescued her. The people who took her in and showed her kindness when no one else bothered with a second glance her way.

Excited didn't even begin to describe how she felt as the taxi pulled up outside of the Exposition boundaries. Of course, after a year and a half of intensive training, all anyone could see was a very confident woman with a playful smirk pulling at a corner of her lips. Getting out of the car, Maria paid the driver and tipped him well before she turned and started to push through the crowds of people coming and going. Pops was still working at the recruitment office tonight, since there would be more people walking through to see the advances in technology on the horizon. More people walking past the office, more possible candidates for the SSR project. She had decided to surprise him at work, instead of heading straight home to Queens. Her parents knew she was coming, just not when exactly. After the shop had been taken care of, and a new contact point set up in Maria's absence, she had grabbed the first ticket out of Paris without sending word that she was on her way. It was an excuse to get Pops home before midnight.

The atmosphere was different than in Paris. She had forgotten how unaware Americans were to the suffering in Europe. She had never thought of it before until she had spent almost a year in the thick of Nazi-occupied France. The environment was intense, with everyone who wasn't on Germany's payroll on guard at all times. French Jews hiding in plain sight because they couldn't get out of the country to neutral territory, or into the arms of Hitler's enemies. Maria had spent a lot of time with a few families, helping them escape from under Hitler's bloodhound's nose. It was one of those life changing moments that alter a person's perspective; saving innocent people from certain death. She wanted to tell her father all about the families she had helped, tell him what they were like and how they had helped her more than she had helped them.

Strutting through the crowds of people, Maria pulled a smoke purse from her sweater pocket, plucking a cigarette and her lighter without slowing her stride. The purse slide back into her pocket as she inhaled deeply, eyes locking onto a man as he maneuvered through the crowd with a friend in an Officer's uniform. Her eyes flashed ice-gray as he watched her pass by, before they returned to their natural doe-eyed brown. He stopped and turned to watch her disappear behind a group of people pushing past. All that was left of her was a cloud of smoke dwindling away into the night air. The trails of smoke from her cigarette were the only sign that she had stopped and turned to watch the man look around for her and fail. She took another drag and looked over to where his friend was standing and waiting.

With a sigh, Maria exhaled the smoke and walked away. She was just a jump and a skip away from the recruitment office her father based his operations out of and she didn't want to miss him. The sidewalks were packed with people, everyone looking out into the chaos of all the stages Stark Industries had set up. Technology on display for the World of Tomorrow. Flying cars and super hero suits encased in glass; enough for people to gawk at in between stops for pretzels and popcorn and drinks. In France, there were cafes with coffee and tea, pastries and bistro meals for Parisians and German soldiers stationed in the city. Fresh ingredients and hardly anything fried in lard with a crispy exterior. Bread was baked fresh daily across the street from her flower shop, the warm scents wafted through the open door to mingle with the perfume of flora. America was a country of different nationalities and excess, while the people of Europe suffered and starved and rationed what they could while they kept their heads down.

Her cigarette was finished by the time Maria neared the recruitment office. The huge sign with Uncle Sam pointing at the passersby, exclaiming, "We want YOU," almost watching her as she went to walk through the open doors. Invisible to anyone gazing in her direction, she walked freely through the office as she looked for her adoptive father. She had learned to utilize the strange abilities she seemed to have accrued over the years, but not rely on them. They came in handy, but she didn't use them more than what was needed to survive. No one but her father knew, and that was how she intended to keep it. Invisibility, instantaneous healing and regeneration, slowing and speeding atoms to freeze time and cause fiery explosions, creating fire and frost, and controlling both, creating illusions. No one should be able to do any such things, but she could do these things as easily as breathing. Genetic mutations, human evolution. Her father had found the literature for her, but nothing that could conclusively explain how she could do what she could. It didn't matter much to her now, though. She kept her abilities hidden, and used the training she had been given to survive.

Finding a restroom in the back office of the recruitment building, Maria slipped in and locked the door. She spent some time undoing her haphazard bun and running her fingers through the tangled mess that was her hair. She pulled the bits of flora and little green leaves before smoothing down the flyaway strands, braiding and pinning her hair back into a cleaner looking bun. Wiping the petals from her dress, Maria checked herself in the mirror and left the restroom. She didn't have to look for long after that until located her father.

Standing at an arced desk counter, shuffling through paperwork and files, Abraham Erskine stood. His hair had grown out a bit, turned white, and he looked older than she remembered. Maria snuck up behind him and tapped his shoulder, bouncing on her heels as he looked over his shoulder. He made to turn back to his files before whipping his head back for another look. His face lit up and he embraced her, the hug tight enough to crush the air from her lungs, but she didn't mind. She welcomed the tightness and clung to her adoptive father until they were both ready to let go. It had been a long time since she last saw him.

"You are here!" exclaimed Abraham, kissing both her cheeks before she returned the greeting. "Have you been to see your mother, yet?"

Maria shook her head, "No, not yet. I wanted to surprise you. And make sure you left before midnight." She hugged him again, burning the experience to memory, "I've missed you. I have so many things to tell you!"

"And I cannot wait to hear them," said Abraham, kissing her forehead as his eyes took in her face. "You are so thin, Marie. Your mother will think you have been starving yourself."

She shrugged, "I've been busy. I'll tell you both all about it at home. Don't know who could be listening in."

"I have a few files to examine, and then I will escort you home," he said, eyes betraying how tired he was as he smiled. "Howard is giving a demonstration. You should go say hello. I'll only be a few more minutes."

Maria narrowed her eyes, but smirked and nodded, "Alright, but if you're one second late I'll drag you out of here by your ear. I'll be back in a minute."

He saluted with a file and waved her off. Maria's heels clicked against the floor as she walked through the front office space. By the entrance, she noticed the small man from earlier and ducked behind the doorway. She melted into the shadows, invisible again, as she listened to peeked around the pillar to watch. The short man stood on a metal square in front of a poster, setting off the light inside to show his face under the printed soldier's helmet. He looked so sad, almost mournful.

"Come on," said the little man's friend, the Sergeant in uniform, as he strolled up from behind. "You're kind of missing the point of a double date. We're taking the girls dancing."

"You go ahead, I'll catch up with you," replied the little man, his face now vaguely familiar the longer she looked at him. And his friend.

The Sergeant sighed, "You really gonna do this again?"

"Well, it's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck."

"As who? Steve from Ohio? They'll catch you. Or worse, they'll actually take you," exclaimed the Sergeant.

"Look, I know you don't think I can do this..."

"This isn't a back alley, Steve. It's war-"

"I know it's a war. You don't have to tell me," said the little man, slightly defensive as his friend attempted to talk sense into him.

The Sergeant seemed a bit exasperated, "Well, why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Steve. "Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?"

"Yes! Why not?!" was the Sergeant's reply.

"I'm not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky. Bucky!" answered Steve a little more forcefully. The names finally clicked in her head as she watched from behind a pillar. Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes; fifteen at Coney Island, they made a kid apologize to her for knocking her down as he passed by. She wondered why she didn't recognize them both before. "Come on. There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand. This isn't about me."

"Right," said Bucky the Sergeant, disbelieving. "'Cause you got nothing to prove..."

One of the girls with the Sergeant hollered out something, and Maria hurried quietly over to her father, who she noticed had been eavesdropping as well. Invisible, she bumped his arm and stayed close to him as she listened to the two men say their goodbyes and part. Maria followed her father as he slyly turned and walked towards an exam curtain.

"Give him a chance," said Maria as they stepped behind a curtain into an empty exam station. She appeared like a magic trick, seated on the exam table with a serious look about her face, "He's the one, Pops. He's the best choice."

"If something that we didn't know we had disappears, do we miss it?" asked Abraham in reply.

Maria shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Not the philosophical road again."

Abraham's eyes twinkled as he peeked through the curtains before saying anything else, "You should not use that gift so freely, Marie. Someone will catch you if you are not careful." He pulled the curtain back and motioned for her to be on her way, "Go. Say hello to Howard. He has been asking about you."

Maria rolled her eyes again and smiled, hopping down from the table, "Give him a chance, Pops. That little guy is the one you've been looking for." She raised up on her tiptoes and pecked her father's cheek, "Twenty minutes, or I'm dragging you out of here kicking and screaming."

"Oh, a few minutes ago it was by my ear," chuckled Abraham, guiding her out into the main office. "I will see what I can do after I speak with him."

Maria smiled brightly and strolled out of the recruitment office, journeying out into the crowds. She had a few dollars in her smoke purse and she hadn't eaten since the morning she closed up the shop in Paris. Of course, her mother would have dinner waiting for Pops when they arrived home. He always called before he left work for the night, so Mom knew when to expect him. Maria knew he'd keep her arrival a secret, because she wanted to surprise her mother just as she had surprised him. So, stopping for food was out of the question. It seemed like she should just man up and slip past security to pay Howard a visit.

It wasn't that she didn't like Howard Stark. He was intelligent and extremely successful for someone his age. He was funny and the few conversations she had with him before she had left for training in England had been quite titillating. Of course, his eyes constantly wandering towards any woman that passed by was slightly irritating. It didn't bother her as much as it most likely bothered other women, mainly because Maria was so preoccupied with Project Rebirth, and then she had been gone for two years. Although, thinking back, Maria realized she had never been interested in any man, ever. She'd never noticed boys in school, except for Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers from Brooklyn, and that had been for entirely different reasons. No, she had been an intimidating twelve year old in Chicago, collecting debts for the Italians running Southside. And then she'd kept quiet with her nose in books when the Erskines took her in and adopted her into their family. She was being taught languages and science and a plethora of other subjects, because Abraham and Rose wanted her to succeed at things, better her life. They didn't want her to be another pair of hands for organized crime. She owed them so much, and so she kept her eyes from wandering to boys and bothering with romance.

Now that she was a woman, Maria wondered if maybe she should have dabbled with romance and boys as a schoolgirl. Then again, no man would be worth accepting a date if she didn't notice them first. And so far, she'd never met a man that caught her eye and made her look. The only reason she accepted dates from Nazis was due to the fact that it was her job. She trafficked information, how else was she going to get it? Flirt, laugh, let her arm brush against the soldier's chest, and they would be wound up enough to tell her whatever she wanted to know. She always ended the date with a soft brush of her lips against theirs, a thin layer of sedative coating the rouge on her lips just the right dose to drug the soldier on his way home. They never remembered the date the next day.

The security detail watching the crowd didn't even notice Maria as she slipped past to the backstage area. She didn't bother to stop and watch Howard on the stage going on about taking a stroll through the world of tomorrow to see the wonders of technology on the horizon. She graced through the small area behind the stage, dodging the women as they hurried about touching up their makeup and perking their breasts in those ridiculous outfits. No one noticed her as she walked around the parked car, so ostentatious that she didn't even need to know Howard Stark to be able to tell that it belonged to him. A brand new Rolls-Royce in a shiny silver paint, the exact opposite of what he drove off in the last time she'd seen him. What had it been? A polished, red Ford pick-up? Fully restored from it's 1930s, rusted glory. The previous owner had not been kind to it, but as Howard started it up and drove away, a person would never have been able to tell.

This Rolls-Royce though, it was straight from the factory to Stark's front door. He must have had a breakthrough with something to treat himself to something this luxurious. She almost felt guilty perching on the hood, but just almost. Pulling the smoke purse from her sweater pocket, she lit another cigarette and inhaled as she crossed her legs and propped an elbow on her knee. The smoke purse was slipped back into her sweater pocket, and she exhaled a cloud as she waited for Howard to take an early leave. She relaxed and let her mind wander as she waited, invisible, while her eyes watched for any sign of Howard.

The time on her wrist watch told her six minutes had already passed. It was nearing nine 'o'clock and she wanted a hot meal and a bath. It had been a long three days. She may smell like flowers, but she felt like she'd been dunked in a vat of oil. Her hair was a tangled, greasy mess. Her skin felt slick. And she imagined she looked harried and rushed, but that was how she left France. Harried and rushed. It was the excitement of seeing her parents and getting away for a bit while Hitler's bloodhound was sniffing around her shop that caused her to close up the little store in as quick a time as humanly possible. As fast as humanly possible without the Nazis noticing.

Eight minutes passed, and still no sign of Howard. She could hear him talking still from his little Fair stage. It sounded as though he was wrapping it up for the night, though. At least, she hoped that was what he was doing. After twenty minutes she would be slipping away to meet her father outside of the recruitment office. She wasn't going to keep her father waiting because Howard Stark was "working." Of course, while she waited, Maria took another drag from her cigarette and held it for a long while before exhaling a steady stream of smoke. There wasn't much else to do, and she was plum out of thoughts to occupy her mind. None that she wanted to spend the remaining twelve minutes mulling, anyway. She had a lot of things to worry about, but nothing that worrying would solve. Things in France that were left open-ended, she had to let nature take its course. A project the British Armed Forces and U.S. military were cooking up for her to lend services to, that would happen in due time as well. Certain events on the horizon for the German High Command, well...

Maria could only collect the information and pass it along without the Nazis finding her out. These things, she couldn't bother herself by worrying about them. Everything would happen when it was meant to happen. There was nothing else she could do but wait.

Another drag on her cigarette, Maria held it same as the drag before, and watched as Howard came into view. She exhaled and flicked the end to the ground a foot away from Howard's shined and polished shoes. He caught sight of the smoke rising and snuffed the cigarette on the sidewalk, looking around before crouching to pick up the butt. Maria was visible by the time he stood up and started to look around again. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat as she propped her chin in the palm of her hand.

"Oh, Marie! I knew you couldn't stay away," joked Howard as he tossed the smushed cigarette out into the street. He spread his arms open as she slid off the hood and embraced him, "Abraham said you weren't due until the end of the week!"

Maria answered by squeezing him tightly, still not comfortable talking in front of or to him. It had always been like that, because she didn't trust him as much as she did the Erskines, yet. Maybe one day, but for now her voice was lost. It wasn't anything to do with Howard, just a quirk she'd developed as a child. It had taken three months before she spoke to Abraham and Rose after they'd taken her in. And she had never spoken to her biological parents, which was why everyone in Chicago that knew her thought she was a mute. It was just one of those funny things about her; like how she didn't like things behind handed to her, or the fact that she only ever danced like no one was watching.

Howard squeezed her back before letting go and taking a step back, smirking, "One day I'm going to get you to tell me how you appear out of thin air. Come on, I'll escort you to your father. He told you to come say hello, didn't he?"

Maria nodded, looping her arm through his offered one and letting him guide her past security. The crowds were thinning out since Howard was done for the night, wandering off towards concession stands for snacks before heading home. Howard chatted her ear off as they strolled down the sidewalk towards the recruitment office, amidst heated glares from the women who watched Maria pass by on Howard Stark's arm. Maria smile and nodded, interacting silently as she ignored the stares she was getting from the single women who were stuck with their less desirable dates. She wasn't worried about it, since Howard Stark was a notorious Casanova and she wasn't interested. He delivered her to her father outside of the recruitment office just as said father was exiting the building, briefcase in hand.

Abraham and Howard shook hands as Maria was handed off with a kiss to the back of her hand and a wink. Maria looped her arm through her father's and they strolled towards Perimeter Road. The walk to Queens would take just over an hour, but it would give them time to discuss the less desirable aspects of her work in France before arriving home. Maria told him about keeping tabs on Johann Schmidt's movements through Europe, including a "top secret" excursion into Norway no one could explain. She described the Jewish families she had helped smuggle to Switzerland and England, and the grown orphans who were too afraid to leave that she was hiding in plain sight. Maria went on about Hitler's bloodhound and how she had been dodging him for months, and the Nazis she had accepted dates with for information. When he asked if she had been given orders to kill yet, Maria's smile fell and she nodded quietly. It was better than confirming it verbally. And when he asked if taking lives had affected her in any way, she felt empty inside when she shook her head and told him that she didn't even have bad dreams.

He dropped the subject and changed topics to the recruits for Project Rebirth...


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER TWO

June 1943, New York

"What the hell is this?" demanded Colonel Chester Phillips of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. He lifted the mandate Maria had pushed across his desk, scowled and tossed it back towards her with a look of disgust. "Patton is a pain in my ass," he muttered, glaring at her. "The answer is no. I'm not going to let you just waltz in and disrupt basic training, Agent."

Attempting to persuade Colonel Phillips into allowing her access to Project Rebirth's prime candidates was proving quite difficult. Especially when she refused to speak to Colonel Phillips, or even in his presence. It hadn't been this hard when she was silently convincing Stark to let her borrow his Rolls-Royce, instead of taking a cab, on a trip to Boston for reasons she wasn't yet willing to divulge. The conflict over Maria sitting down with Rogers was beyond ridiculous. The opposition from Phillips was becoming just a hurdle that she would have to jump over, which always seemed to be the case these days. Phillips didn't trust her, and he made no pretense of pretending otherwise. Which was why she had obtained the five page mandate from the Colonel's superior, Patton, specifying what she was there to do, in the hopes that Phillips would comply. It seemed that even orders from on high to let her do her job wasn't going to cut it when it came to Phillips. The exact answer to her question when she first posed it to her father individually had been, The Colonel would rather not have him doubt the program. Which, underlying meaning and all that, meant Phillips was afraid she would intimidate the recruits. Or give the impression that Project Rebirth was not what it appeared to be. Which wasn't the case at all.

Steve Rogers was the case.

No, Maria simply wanted to sit across from the man who once stood up for her to a complete stranger because she had been shoved. She wanted to make sure he was the only choice for the procedure. Why pull her from the work she was doing in Paris if Phillips wasn't going to allow her to do anything? Of course she would want to be present to see Abraham, her father, achieve his dream, but sitting on the sidelines to watch seemed superfluous when she had been told she was needed. They couldn't just dangle the worm in front of her and expect her not to bite. She was brought back from Europe to help evaluate the candidates. They should let her do it.

With a firm stare, Maria righted the document giving Phillips his orders and shoved it back to him. She even made a point of tapping her finger on it to prove her point. They were his orders, he needed to obey his superiors.

"My answer is still, 'no.'" Colonel Phillips said, hardening his glare. "Maybe I'll reconsider my opposition if you asked, instead of going over my head to get what you want, Agent Reinstein."

That was his challenge every time she went over his head for something. The man was just so unreasonable, Maria hated typing up requests for anything to submit to him personally. It was why she enjoyed her work in Paris so much. No Phillips to answer to, just a flower shop and her informants, and the people she dropped the information off with discreetly. It was an entirely different ballgame than in the base camps in Italy. Under British SOE directives, Maria was able to move freely because they could not police her as much as Phillips obviously enjoyed to do. Not without arousing the suspicions of the Germans occupying France. Especially since Paris was swarming with Nazi officers, and the Gestapo. It was too dangerous to the end result.

Colonel Phillips, she was aware of this, was only denying her permission to stroll through basic training because he didn't like how Maria dealt with rules and protocol. He challenged her, because he wanted an upper hand. He wanted her to admit that he was above her in the chain of command, and he wanted to beat her at the political ring of bureaucratic games that had to be played in order to get anywhere. It was because he hated how she could maneuver and manipulate people into understanding what she needed without speaking. It was because she only spoke to a select few, and had never spoken a word in front of Colonel Phillips. Or to him. It was his way of saying he was sick of her big doe eyes batting at a person and getting to walk away without asking for something. He didn't understand it was just a quirk, that she did it to almost everyone. If she didn't like a person, or trust a person, she just couldn't speak; it was a comfort thing, her muteness. The Nazis in Paris, they all knew about the mute girl who ran the flower shop near the cafe with the best strudel in the city. All she had to do to communicate with someone was a light touch and the answer just came to them, as if they thought of it themselves. It wasn't control, it was just her way of relating what she needed without trying to verbalize it. If she couldn't find her voice, it meant something.

In this case, being so frustrated, Maria found her voice. And it was strong, firm, and cutting.

"You are such a sourpuss," she hissed, pushing the Colonel's orders into his lap with one finger. Maria raised an eyebrow, challenging him as she continued, "I'm going to walk the camp, and do as I please...and do you know why, Colonel?"

Phillips looked amused, but his glare still held firm. She could see the corner of his lips quirking before she continued, and then she watched it fall into a deep frown. It made her extremely giddy, on the inside, knowing how much she got under his skin.

"And what would that be?"

"Because General Patton says I can," Maria smirked, allowing her eyes to sparkle with victory.

The Colonel seemed a bit offended, but Maria had never cowered when faced with Phillips's temper. He didn't frighten whatever feminine and fragile sensibilities she was supposed to have, being a woman and all. She was aware that the way she behaved, what she did behind confidential, classified documents, unnerved Colonel Phillips, but it wasn't her business to put his mind at ease when it came to her characteristics. He was the one who witnessed Maria clocking the soldier who groped her, back when she was just Erskine's assistant. He had been the one to recommend her for Agent status, like Peggy Carter. Maria thought that, maybe, Phillips hadn't realized she would be given free reign wherever she went. The lovely advantage of being a special operative for two different countries and their militaries, was that there were no papers on Maria whatsoever. She was above corporal punishment, because she didn't exist. The things she did for the U.S.A. and Great Britain, when she wasn't playing flower shop, were so egregious that no country wanted a possible trail back to them. She wasn't like the others in the SOE, no one wanted their names attached to her work. That was the reason behind code naming her, "the Italian."

"My answer is still no," said Phillips, obviously pouting now. "I'll have my Lieutenants escort you off these premises, Agent. You are not setting a toe on my army base."

"I'll do as I please, because I'm here for a reason, Colonel," Maria refused to back down. "This is Dr. Erskine's project. You just found the funding, so you could have your precious army of super soldiers. So stop pretending you know what is in the best interest of Project Rebirth, or who is the best choice for the procedure, and let Abraham and I do our jobs."

Maria's eyes flashed, for just a split second, from dark brown - almost black - to a fiery gold, before returning to their normal, lifeless color, "And I dare you to send your Lieutenants to drag me out of here...I'll have a report typed and on your desk by tomorrow morning, Colonel. Good day."

Maria simply looked to her father for a moment before returning her gaze to Phillips with the same fire in her eyes as before. He wasn't understanding the reasoning she was giving. Phillips didn't understand how the basis of human nature worked, because he was used to obedient soldiers taking his orders. He hadn't closely watched human interactions, or talked with Abraham at length on the subject as a post-dessert conversation topic. Phillips was incredibly blind to the fact that people of all walks of life like to think that they are rational beings. Humane. Conscientious. Civilized. Thoughtful. That when things fall apart, even just a little, it becomes clear. People are no better than animals. Humans have opposable thumbs, they think, walk erect, speak, and dream, but deep down they are all rooting around in the primordial ooze. Biting, clawing, scratching out an existence in the cold, dark world like the rest of the tree toads and sloths. Phillips was aware that there is a little animal in everyone, all human beings. He just didn't realize that it was something to celebrate. Animal instinct is what makes people seek comfort, warmth, a pack to run with. They may feel caged, trapped, but still, as humans, they can find ways to feel free. Everyone is each other's keepers, and all that nonsense. People are the guardians of their own humanity. And even though there is a beast inside every living person, what sets human beings apart from the animals is that they can think, feel, dream, and love. And against all odds, against all instinct, people eventually evolve.

Of course, Maria was a bit spiteful. She might have evolved on a genetic level, but she hadn't evolved on a human level. She still purposely sent the stacks of papers on his desk toppling over to the floor, on accident, of course. Clumsy mistake, and all that, as she turned to leave behind her father. Who, by the way, did not look at all amused at her pettiness.

No Lieutenants under Colonel Phillips's command stopped Maria as she followed Abraham out of the main office building on the army base. Nor did anyone stop her from strolling between the barracks to the main area where most of the recruits' training took place. They just watched her passed by. No one said a word.

Before she took that stroll, though, she had parted ways with her father. Promising to be home after the day was done, Maria smoothed any wrinkles from her dress uniform and waved her father off with a smile. He was the only person who had faith in her abilities. He trusted her judgment enough to speak with Steve Rogers himself, and he had seen how obvious the choice was when it came down to who would make the best soldier for the procedure. He knew she was observant, more so than most normal human beings. And he knew that she had a far deeper reason for watching Rogers and the other recruits. He didn't ask the why, he just accepted her methods. Just as she never questioned his in regards to the serum, or the procedure. They each understood each other's specialties, with mutual respect. More than she could say for her biological parents, who never respected anyone or anything.

It was sunny morning, and far too hot to be wearing a uniform jacket. If Maria could get away with chucking the entire uniform altogether, she would, but no one was going to allow her to traipse about in civilian clothing. The uniform, with it's dark green jacket, starch white blouse and thick material skirt - and ridiculous heels that sank into the ground - was a protocol Maria just couldn't overlook today. Even the annoying tie. She hadn't applied any makeup, though. Of course, she never really did. Too much hassle, and never enough time to do it properly. Which, probably, was a lie she told herself so she didn't have to do it. She had the time, but she just never wanted to try and make herself look above average. She had combed her wild, frizzy curls and pinned them in a respectable style, and that was about as much as anyone was going to get from her when it came to her appearance. Plain meant no one looked twice. And she liked being the girl unnoticed.

There were two new batches of recruits in formation in separate parts of the field, right in the center of the army base. Two new batches to choose from, but Maria spotted Rogers in line with Phillips's prime candidate, Hodge, and decided she would watch them last. The other formation was farther away, and it looked as though Peggy was already addressing Rogers' group. Phillips would be showing up soon, Maria just knew. Best to keep her distance until his mood was less sour.

Besides, wasn't it always better to save the best for last?

The batch of recruits she chose to observe first held one or two promising soldiers, from what she could see from a distance. As she neared, Maria recognized a face from the Queens neighborhood her parents resided. She walked to the soldier's family delicatessen and bakery every morning with her father, when she was home. They always bought two kosher bagels for breakfast. And Maria listened to Mr. Utivich's wife try to convince Abraham that her son, Smithson, would make a good husband for his daughter, and vice versa. She was even willing to overlook the fact that the Reinsteins weren't actually Jewish. If Mrs. Utivich knew what Maria did these days, she wouldn't offer up her son as a groom so willingly. In fact, Mrs. Utivich would probably ban Maria and her father from their establishment indefinitely. Of course, what Maria did in the name of country wasn't something anyone would be willing to divulge to the obnoxious woman. Maria always just remained quiet and perused the pastry displays, as she watched Smithson blush profusely from behind the counter without him noticing.

Smithson was a small fellow, much like Steve Rogers, but entirely the opposite when it came to everything else. His personality was more outspoken, except when it came to his mother. No Jewish son ever argued with his mother. Probably because Jewish women were exceptionally gifted at winning debates. Of course, back to Smithson. He was a little man, still, from Maria had seen of the pictures on the walls from the last few years she had been elsewhere. Other than that, he wasn't much like Rogers, at all. He wasn't a bully, but he'd never allowed himself to be a victim. He had a few friends, but mainly kept to himself. She guessed he could be considered handsome. He was nice enough, somewhat shy around girls, and witty. Maria used to eavesdrop on him and his friends the few times she had waited outside for her father to purchase the bagels. That was before her training, when she was just an assistant in the lab. Smithsons remarks, always quick-witted and swift, had made her giggle on occasion, but that was about it. They both kept mainly to themselves when they were out by themselves, and Maria was far too busy to worry about a husband. She didn't even know if she wanted to get married one day. She was young, she had time to decide. Or be swept off her feet and the decision would be obvious. Either way, not right now.

Maria watched Utivich and the rest of the recruits in Group Two - that's what she decided to call the nameless soldiers - going through drills. Smithson was the shortest, but he definitely had more stamina than the taller men with more muscle weighing them down. She had a pen and a small stack of thin files, each file with a sheet of paper clipped inside for her to take notes on, firmly held in the crook of one arm. The pen was tucked behind her ear. When she was closer to Group Two, Maria perched herself on the hood of the military vehicle the Drill Sergeant and company had arrived in, uncapped her pen and shuffled through the files until she found Utivich's name. She hadn't noticed it in the pile when her father had pulled out a mixture of his and Phillips's choices, but at least he was in the stack. Twenty thin files, and Utivich's was close to the bottom. Of course, as she observed him in the group of ten men, he moved up to the top of the stack.

The notes were taken down in shorthand, her script fast-paced and somewhat looped, but legible enough be considered somewhat elegant. Maria started with Utivich, of course, as she waited for the Drill Sergeant to acknowledge her. The recruits already had, but they kept their eyes from glancing in her direction as much as possible as they were put through the routine. Jumping jacks, push ups, and so on before the mid-afternoon miles were to be run. She made sure to pay close attention to how the recruits obeyed Drill Sergeant Timmons, and their reactions to his shouting, the orders he gave. She watched their facial expressions, filing away their tells of exhaustion or winces of pain until she had names to attach to her mental notes.

Sergeant Timmons was one of Maria's most liked officers on the army base. They had met four years ago when Project Rebirth was in its infancy, with Colonel Phillips groveling for the funding. Her father had given her a tour of the base while the location for a lab was still being looked into. Timmons had been polite and charming, very kind. And when the soldiers weren't around, he was delightfully hilarious. It was the first time Maria had laughed in front of someone she had just met. She had no problem at all speaking to him. He was a very nice man, with a wife and two sons, of whom he enjoyed regaling Maria stories of. He always had a smile for her, and she suspected he secretly enjoyed her tenacity when it regarded how she always, purposely, rubbed Phillips the wrong way.

Thirty minutes passed before Sergeant Timmons called the recruits into a line. There was utter silence from them while Timmons walked over to Maria, smile on his face since his back was turned to the men. Maria returned the smile and slid off the hood of the vehicle, closing the file in her hands and capping the pen. She put the file on the top of the stack and lifted them easily, holding them in one arm as she saluted the Sergeant.

"Agent Reinstein," greeted Timmons as he released her from the salute. He reached out and shook her hand gently, schooling his face into something less friendly now that the recruits could see both their faces. "Colonel Phillips warned me you'd be observing today. Welcome back to American soil."

Maria dipped her head in acknowledgement, speaking softly so only he could hear, "I'm just taking notes for the project, Sergeant. Do you mind calling out each recruit so I can put a face to each file? These yet to have photographs attached to them."

"Anything to help," said Sergeant Timmons, guiding her up to the line of soldiers. His face had returned to its usual scowl before they stopped a few feet in front of the line up. Maria left her features blank and emotionless, as per her usual expression, as she looked from face to face. Timmons addressed the recruits with his normal berating tone, "Soldiers! This is Agent Reinstein and she will be evaluating you all this afternoon! You will show her the same respect you show me! When she stops in front of you, you are to step forward and give your name! Do you understand?!"

"SIR, YES, SIR!" shouted the recruits in unison.

Timmons took the stack of files and shuffled through them to pull out his group of ten recruits, while Maria eyed the recruits with her perfected blank, emotionless expression. They watched her as she did so, and she was certain that they caught how her face flickered in recognition when she met PFC. Utivich's gaze. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just as her's did, in a soft smirk before she moved on to the next soldier in line. She was sizing them up before she walked the line, because she only had a few moments until the afternoon run through. She was almost certain that Colonel Phillips would be arriving in the next few minutes to address these recruits, but she wouldn't be disappearing until the end of the training day. Her parents were already aware of that fact, and Colonel Phillips's aggravation of her presence was too good to pass on. She could make herself scarce, but then that would only impede her evaluations. And she was nothing but thorough when it came to evaluating people.

It only took Sergeant Timmons a minute to find his group of recruits in the stack of files. It didn't seem like time had passed at all when he handed Maria the files of his group of recruits. She looked at the names and uncapped her pen, poising it between two fingers as she showed Sergeant Timmons the name of the first file in the stack. And so started her afternoon. Timmons would call out the name she showed him, the recruit would step forward and salute, and Maria would hastily take down the notes she had filed away on each soldier. Now that she had names to go with faces, the process would be much more easy. And Maria made quick work of matching names to faces, jotting down quick notes before the next recruit was called forward. It only took ten minutes out of their day. Ten minutes they would be making up for later, but a necessity nevertheless.

When Maria was done, she had turned to Timmons to take back the rest of her files when a recruit spoke against orders to remain at ease.

"Why don't you address us, little lady?" asked a soldier. Elijah Schwartz, if Maria remembered correctly. And she always remembered correctly. She looked over at him with a curious expression, at which he continued. "Pretty little thing like youse's gotta have a pretty little voice. What do you think, fellas? She gotta pretty little voice to go with those pretty lips?"

A few of the soldiers chuckled, most remained silent and void of any tells as Maria focused on Schwartz. Private Utivich had a look of disgust etching into the corners of his eyes, which intrigued her, but not enough to pull away from teaching Private Schwartz a lesson. She was a lot like Peggy Carter, in the sense that she never let a man forget she wasn't to be trifled with. And being a woman who could kill without blinking her eye in hesitation, Maria was far more deadly than Peggy. If Peggy were to deal with Schwartz at this moment she would probably have him move forward, put a leg out and then knock him to the ground in one swing. Maria was far more certain she couldn't harm his face with one punch. She was too petite, not strong enough like Peggy. She tended to use leverage and momentum to take down tall men like Schwartz.

This was going to be fun.

Maria found her voice quickly, firm and authoritative as she handed Sergeant Timmons her things, "Step forward, Private."

Schwartz smirked and stepped forward, "Youse gonna reprimand me, Princess?"

Maria stopped a few yards away from him, rolling the length of her skirt up to mid-thigh as she kicked off her heels. With her toes, she crossed an X into the dirt, marking the spot he would land with a brief smirk. She tossed Sergeant Timmons her little uniform hat, and returned her gaze to Schwartz, stone cold and still so expressionless she must look like a porcelain doll. Blank and unresponsive as she waited for another smart-mouthed comment from the Private.

He didn't disappoint.

"Oh, fellas," he said, chuckling as he looked back to his fellow recruits. "I think I'm gonna enjoy this."

Before he could turn his head back around, Maria had launched into a sprint and lunged into a flip. Her legs wrapped around his head and brought him with her as the inertia carried them both. She turned in mid-air, Schwartz's body following with her until she released him and sent him flying. She landed on her feet, perfectly balanced, and he landed on his back in the exact spot she had marked in the dirt.

Without sparing a glance at anyone, Maria smoothed her uniform jacket and rolled down her skirt hem as if it were nothing out of the norm for a woman to do. As she was slipping back into her heels, Colonel Phillips arrived in his usual style. Military vehicle screeching to a stop in the patchy grass and sandy dirt. Maria spun and saluted him, refusing to greet him with his rank or name as he grumpily released her from the salute and took in the Private still groaning on the ground.

"Agent Reinstein, I take it you are breaking in the new recruits?"

Maria nodded, expecting where this was going.

"I didn't give you permission to injure the men, Agent," said Phillips, jerking his head towards Timmons's vehicle. "Why don't you situate yourself in the jeep and keep your hands to yourself."

Maria saluted him again, and stuck her tongue out at him when his back was turned. She gathered her files and pen from Timmons and did as Phillips ordered, aware that she couldn't defy him in front of his soldiers. It would cause for a headache later, and she couldn't disrespect him in front of the recruits. They would lose respect for him as a Commanding Officer, and that was something she couldn't mess with while she was on this army base. She sat in the jeep quietly, smirking when Phillips addressed the groaning Schwartz.

"Get back in line and stand at attention until someone comes and tells you what to do," the Colonel barked at the man on the ground.

Maria half-listened to Phillips's speech as she shuffled through the files, making a note under Schwartz's name as a rejected candidate. Too disrespectful, she had written. Disobeys his superior's orders. Attitude not fitted to the project. It was easy to see he was not the clear choice. Maybe Utivich? There was still the rest of the afternoon to see if any other recruits stood out. More drills and several miles of jogging time worth of afternoon, to be exact. That was five or more hours. At least she wasn't expected to jog with them. She got to sit comfortably in the jeep as the recruits ran behind the vehicle.

The drills were boring to watch, same old, same old. Nothing really to observe as the recruits were put through their paces and beyond their limits. Running time was refreshing, though. The air rushing past to cool her off as Timmons sounded off behind the jeep. The officer driving kept glancing over at her, but Maria easily ignored him. The sun was starting its descent down towards the horizon, slowly, but still exquisite in the colors painting the sky. The recruits were sweating profusely behind the jeep, a few panting heavily from the exertion. They were nearing the flagpole marking the halfway point, but the soldiers still had ten more miles to run. These men were going to be dead on their feet by the end of the day. A few would drop out of the program, to be sent to Italy at the end of the week to join the front lines sooner. Just to get away from the extras Colonel Phillips expected his future super-soldiers to withstand.

Maria couldn't blame them, it did seem a lot of conditioning for a spot in the project. Of course, it wasn't as much as she had soldiered through when she had undergone conditioning. Before combat training, and all that went into espionage, whatnot and hoo-hah. The nameless woman had drilled Maria past the point of human limitations and further still. It was a necessity, the woman had told her in strongly accented English. The Russian, was what Maria had ended up calling her teacher, but the lessons had been worth the spirit breaking exercises and combat exercises. The recruits would be grateful when this was over.

Evening was creeping up on them, and it seemed there was no end in sight for the recruits, or Maria as she glanced back at the soldiers trying to climb the flag pole.

"First man to bring that flag to me gets a ride back with Agent Reinstein!" bellowed Timmons, enjoying the failures as recruit after recruit slid or fell from the pole. No one got very far, no one save for Utivich. He slid a bolt from the bottom out and watched the entire flag pole fall to the grass. Timmons was flabbergasted, but he couldn't say anything against it as Utivich handed his Sergeant a folded flag and climbed into the back of the vehicle.

Maria shared a smirk with him before turning forward in her seat as the next ten miles stretched out before them, scribbling notes in the files in her lap before the sun light ran out.


End file.
